


Regrets and Hope

by Quantum_Reality



Category: Orwell (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-14
Updated: 2019-01-14
Packaged: 2019-10-09 22:22:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17413634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quantum_Reality/pseuds/Quantum_Reality
Summary: Abraham Goldfels listens to Raban Vhart's podcast, and looks back to the past, then to the future. (Spoilers for Orwell: Keeping an Eye on You, and Orwell: Ignorance is Strength)





	Regrets and Hope

**_DECEMBER 18, 2016_ **

“PRESIDENT PUPPET IS A PIECE OF COMPLETE AND UTTER **SHIT**!” bellowed the voice over his computer’s speakers.

Abraham Goldfels – and truly, Gunther Aarons had been using that name for so long, he _was_ Goldfels – was sitting up in his bed, regarding the screen with a wan half-smile. At that last expostulation by Vhart, he managed to get out some weak chuckles before they turned into wracking, spasming coughs, leaving him with his head resting back against his pillow. As he breathed slowly, stertorously, he mused, _Such energy that man has. Raban Vhart’s website has been up for at least two years now, and he’s just as fiery and determined as he was when he first started out, if all the archives I’ve been reading are any indication._

Abraham knew he didn’t have long to live – if the fact that he woke up every morning coughing, wracked with spasms, wasn’t enough to warn him, it was the fact that every day, it was a little bit harder just to _move_. Just to _do_ the things an ordinary human being did every day.

But there _was_ one thing a retired, sick, dying old man did have while still alive: a lot of time.

Time to contemplate.

Time to ruminate.

Time to regret.

So many regrets.

His former life. His family. _Demiurge. His greatest failure of all._

He prayed that Juliet Kerrington would carry out his one last wish, for he dared not get back in contact with her after his last plea. The Nation might well have put him under surveillance on general principle. Or worse, Demiurge – or “Orwell”, perhaps – might already be online. And after all, he _had_ designed it and knew well its capabilities. No sense in getting Juliet embroiled in that and having her future tarnished by being in some permanent database.

He had failed her; he had failed all of Thought. He had even failed himself: that damn lawsuit. _So much for even getting justice for myself._

Abraham blinked, refocusing his eyes on his laptop screen as he re-read “ **The People’s Voice: #saveparges** ” above the articles.

Raban Vhart. Pargesian refugee and a seeming one-man army against President Kassart of Parges. He also made no secret of the fact that he believed Kassart was backed by Blaine and The Nation. _Only_ , thought Goldfels, _Mr. Vhart’s sheer hysteria prevents the government from taking him seriously as a threat. But if Orwell is in operation by now, The Nation almost certainly will turn its awesome power on Mr. Vhart – if only because “security” demands surveillance at the slightest pretext._

Abraham lay back against his pillow again, closing his eyes at the sudden weight which seemed to lie on him. He pushed against it as he felt his chest expand, then contract, with every breath.

He thought again of the first alpha test of Orwell; of how easily the entire system had been manipulated to treat all target persons as potential threats. Almost without conscious volition, his thoughts then turned to the last meeting he had had with the Nation’s security officials.

He had learned, depressingly enough, _how_ eager some people could be to put Orwell to work.

A sharp-faced, black-haired woman swam forth in his mind’s eye: Melissa Obrian. In short, clipped tones, she’d asked how extensible Orwell could be and how soon it could be put into operation. Abraham had tried, gently, to dissuade that train of thought, pointing out that the Ethical Codex imposed certain fundamental limitations on Orwell’s reach, and that the alpha test had revealed some pressing issues that needed solving.

She might as well not have heard him. Half of her attention had been on her mobile phone, a slightly mocking smile crossing her face as she read the screen.

Abraham sighed. _Mr. Vhart would probably find Thought to be laughably lackluster compared to his own form of expression. But,_ he considered, _the people of Parges have one advantage over those in The Nation: their President, in abandoning even the fiction of democracy, has made it clear that Parges either goes with him, or against him. So the Pargesians have less incentive to simply go along with the flow. Perhaps if they rise up, The Nation’s people may follow their lead._

 _Yes,_ decided Abraham Goldfels. _If there is any hope for The Nation, it surely lies in the Pargesians._

He opened his eyes once more, and carefully pushed himself up just enough to set his laptop off to one side. Abraham then wearily shuffled in his bed to rest for a nap, pulling the blanket up over himself. _Just a short rest,_ he promised himself, _so I can gain some energy for the remainder of the day._

His eyes fluttered shut as his head touched the pillow, and he drifted off easily into sleep.

He never woke again.

**Author's Note:**

> I'd like to thank **shadowtheory** on Tumblr for looking this over prior to posting. :)


End file.
